An Angel's Smile Is What You Sell
by NotOneLineFF
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer have their post-reveal talk. This is not going to go the way you think. (Written pre-finale so slightly non-canon.)
1. Chapter 1

_You promise me heaven, then put me through hell…_

 _..._

48 hours. It had been over 48 hours since she'd seen him, truly seen him, for the first time. Since then, radio silence. He was trying not to worry, trying to pretend he wasn't checking his phone for the thousandth time. Calling her was out of the question. He'd promised to give her space and a promise was just another word for a deal as far as he was concerned.

And he always kept his deals.

It didn't happen how he'd planned it of course. Not that he _had_ planned it exactly, not really. But when did anything go the way he wanted it to anyway?

72 hours ago, for just few minutes, everything had been perfect. He'd finally given into his feelings, his Father be damned. When he'd kissed her the world itself had fallen away until there was only the two of them, lost among the bright city lights. It felt like flying.

All it had taken was a phone call to bring them crashing down. The chain of events that followed had spiraled out of his control, so much so that finally he'd had no choice but to reveal himself.

She'd been shocked. He hadn't expected anything less. It was the wonder in her eyes though that bothered him. Fear he could have understood. It was as familiar to him as punishment, as anticipated as pain. Awe however, was not. It had been eons since anyone had looked at him that way. It left him feeling... undeserving.

He had wrongly assumed she would prove to be as unaffected by his angelic side as she was by the rest of his devilish charms. Another cruel irony put in place by his Father no doubt. Susceptible to the angel he was but immune to the devil he is.

Bloody wings. Even now he longed to release them, to soar, to be free. But every time he did, every time he gave in it was another reminder that free was something he would never be, not really. But the urge to use them remained. It was no different to wanting to use your legs to run, your hands to hold, he supposed. Except that for him unfurling them out of instinct had changed everything, forever. He just wasn't sure exactly _how_ yet.

Because his wings weren't the only thing she'd seen that fateful night.

Again, he glanced at his phone. The screen remained dark.

...

Chloe sat at her work station, her head in her hands. The past two days had been an endless overwhelming blur of questions and confusion. Despite her exhaustion she'd forced herself to go into the precinct, willingly throwing herself into a pile of mind-numbing paperwork. Anything to distract her for a while, anything that would help her put off the inevitable.

As the hours wore on the department grew increasingly empty, until eventually Chloe was left alone, her solitary desk lamp the only thing fighting against the encroaching darkness. She'd always preferred being here at this time of night when she could, the usual hustle and bustle nowhere to be heard. It gave her time to think, to work without distraction. Because just like now, _he_ wasn't here.

Everything had changed. The silence was no longer comforting, it was unnerving. Now that she knew the truth, she'd found herself unable to stop thinking about the past few weeks. Flirting in the hallways, stolen kisses in the evidence room; there were reminders everywhere of the worst mistake she'd ever made. The lieutenant's office was empty now, and once that would have meant her heart was too.

Instead, it was full of another.

She refused to go on like this. Her mind was so consumed with trying to _understand_ that there was very little room left for anything else. She had a responsibility to her daughter, to her job, to find a way to put all this behind her and move on. And there was only one way to do that.

He'd invited her to the penthouse when she was ready. She wasn't sure she ever _would_ be ready. The station felt like the better option. Familiar... safer. It made no sense to feel that way, she knew. He hadn't hurt her in all their time together, he wasn't about to start now. But she couldn't help it.

It was time. Time to do what she'd been dreading all evening. Time to finally get an answer.

She had to _know._

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she picked up her phone and dialed.

...

 _"We need to talk. Meet me at the station?"_

He'd done it again. One second he was in the penthouse, overjoyed to hear the sound of her voice, and the next he was in the parking lot at the precinct.

 _Idiot._ Anyone could have seen him, and right now the last thing he needed to be dealing with was yet another human with an existential crisis.

Still, he couldn't wait to see her, which apparently was part of the problem. His wings seemed more inclined to listen to his heart than his head these days.

He spotted her as soon as he entered the department, her long blonde hair hanging over her shoulders as she sat writing something at her desk. Questions for him, he presumed. Hurriedly he headed down the stairs, a wide smile upon his face as he exclaimed "Detective!" with his usual exuberance.

 _Did she just flinch?_

No, she couldn't have, it must have been a trick of the light. He'd arrived here too quickly, that was it. She just hadn't expected him yet, he'd startled her that's all.

Perhaps it would be prudent to take some advice from his ex-wife and start acting 'as if' again. It wasn't like it hadn't worked for him before.

"So what have you got for me this evening, hm?" he asked merrily. "A grisly murder? A missing spouse? Or just some friendly Q&A between partners? Consider me a devil at your disposal."

She lifted her head and his smile vanished. Her eyes were red raw, the pallor of her skin indicating how very little sleep she'd had since he saw her last. Just as he was about to voice his concern though, she rose from her chair.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, she turned and walked in the direction of the interview room. Stopping just short of the doorway, she glanced back at him as he heard her say quietly, "Please follow me."

He waited until her eyes finally met his, raising an eyebrow at her as if to say " _Really?"_

In response she simply opened the door and indicated he should move inside.

Very well then, if this was what she needed he would acquiesce. In truth there was really very little she could ask that he wouldn't do.

Nodding his agreement, he willingly walked towards his own interrogation.

...

She followed him into the room, closing the door behind her and making sure to lock it. At this time of night it was unlikely there would be anyone still in the building, but she didn't want to risk being disturbed regardless. Grabbing a chair she dragged it over to the corner, the sound grating as it scraped across the floor. He must have realised her intention, because the next thing she heard was, "Detective, let me..."

She glared at him.

"I got it, Lucifer," she said sharply, standing on the chair and reaching up to disconnect the security camera. "Take a seat, please." He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender and did as he was told, something which was almost as surprising to her as finding out he had wings.

"So how shall we begin, Detective? Am I to play the witness or the suspect? Tell me, do I get to wear handcuffs? I promise not to escape this time if you chain me to the table." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

The unwelcome urge to laugh bubbled up inside her. She resisted it, pushing the feeling back down deep. Focus wasn't something she could afford to lose right now. "This isn't a game, Lucifer," she replied sternly.

Sitting down, she took a moment to consider the man opposite her. Everything about him gave the impression he was totally at ease, his posture relaxed as he leaned back in the chair, completely comfortable in his surroundings. Completely comfortable with her. And yet there was something guarded about his expression that betrayed all that. Chloe Decker made the Devil nervous, it seemed.

"As you wish, Detective." The levity that had been in his face before had disappeared, a trace of apprehension in its place. "I assume you have questions for me?"

"Just the one actually."

...

 _One?_

That couldn't be right. Linda had plagued him with queries for weeks after he'd showed her the truth. This didn't sound like his Detective at all. Perhaps the shock had affected her more severely than he'd thought?

A long forgotten discussion with Daniel drifted into his mind, the product of a poorly made decision to try and impart his wisdom regarding relationships to the Devil one night. _"If you remember one thing, buddy... let it be this. Nothing good ever comes of a conversation that begins with "we need to talk."_

A strange sinking feeling began to develop in his stomach. He covered it with a smile, throwing his hands apart widely to indicate that he was an open book. "Well should you change your mind you may ask me as many questions as you like Detective. By all means, proceed."

He watched her swallow nervously before she answered. "I may... ask for clarification if I need to." Her eyes flickered to the notepad in front of her, the pen she was holding tapping repeatedly against it. He wanted to reach across, to take her hand and calm her movements, but something told him that wouldn't be welcomed at present. That he wouldn't be welcomed.

Visibly she composed herself. He braced in preparation for her question.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

His smile grew as he breathed a sigh of relief. This he had expected, and so naturally he had his answer already prepared. He had, after all, never lied to her.

Before he had a chance to lead with that though, the Detective corrected herself. "No, that's not quite right is it? You did tell me, nearly every single day. _That_ was always the truth." The emphasis on the word did not escape him.

"Let me rephrase. Why didn't you _show_ me?"

Ah. That was slightly more complicated.

...

They were less than five minutes in and she already wanted to wipe the smug grin off his face. That, at least, was familiar. She could tell she'd thrown him slightly off balance with her question though.

Lucifer being Lucifer, however, he recovered quickly. "If you recall, I did try to show you. Twice in fact."

He had? She cast her mind back, searching for a moment of weirdness amongst the considerable pile Lucifer had built over the years. A moment that might have actually meant something more.

 _Why is it not working?_ _I don't understand._

Eyes narrowing, she ventured her guess. "The lab?"

He nodded. "Not my finest moment I must admit. Rather embarrassing really. I've never failed to perform before, I can assure you."

That earned him an eye roll, her first of the evening. And probably not her last. "And the second time?"

"Come now, Detective, surely you haven't forgotten shooting me? The evidence is right there around your neck."

She sat back in her chair, stunned. "You wanted to show me even then?"

He shrugged. "You didn't believe me. I simply thought it might make our working relationship better if you did."

"We weren't even working together back then, Lucifer." A smirk appeared on his face that couldn't have said _"Weren't we?"_ more clearly than if he'd spoken it out loud.

"So what changed?" A pause. He gave her a small, tender smile as he answered.

"We did."

He was looking at her the way he had before, on the beach, on the balcony. Those moments when he was so very open, so completely honest with her about how he felt. If only he'd been as open about everything else, maybe she wouldn't be here right now, doing this.

She had to not let it affect her. What she needed to know was important. More important than almost anything. She couldn't move forward without it.

It was time to steer the conversation back to where she wanted it to be. "The lab, the warehouse, then. What happened? Why didn't you-"

"I'll stop you right there, Detective," he said, holding his hand up at her as if he were directing traffic. Or school children crossing the road.

Now _there_ was an image.

"Less of a didn't, more of a _couldn't,_ really. I was, shall we say, unaware at the time that something had been taken from me, on both occasions."

She stared at him, obviously waiting for him to elaborate. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"At the warehouse, my immortality. The laboratory... my true face."

She couldn't stop the shudder that ran down her spine and she knew he'd spotted it too, judging by the way his eyes quickly fell to the floor. She took a slow, deep breath. It was okay. It was only Lucifer in front of her, just Lucifer. The same Lucifer she'd always known. Or at least thought she'd known. Not... whatever that had been.

"You were immortal?" _Stupid_. She was asking him to confirm things he'd already told her, things that already knew to be true.

 _Always the truth. Point of pride for me, Detective._

God knows how old he _actually_ was.

Oh. God would _literally_ know, wouldn't he? This was going to take some getting used to.

He humoured her though, giving a nod in confirmation. "Technically I still am- well, most of the time anyway." He smiled, gesturing towards her notepad where apparently she'd been scribbling without even realising. "You spell it with two 'm's by the way, just in case you've forgotten again."

She smiled at that, she couldn't help herself. But in the end it only served to remind her of his recent attempt to recreate their greatest hits, which in turn had led to their kiss...

 _Stop._ She couldn't allow him to distract her. Now wasn't the time. Sighing, she continued. "Your face. You called it your true face?"

"Why yes of course. I know the phrase is devilishly handsome, darling, but do you really think _this_ face strikes fear into the hearts of the damned?"

"But..." she waved in the general direction of the attractive visage that had been staring down at her all this time.

"Ah." He hesitated. "This is what I looked like... before."

"Before what?" she asked softly, recognising that this was something he was reluctant to talk about.

"Before I fell, Detective."

She could see it then, the pain in his eyes. An image flashed into her mind, a hellish red creature screaming in agony, ran through the chest with a sword as an angel stood behind. A painting she'd once seen, in what felt like a lifetime ago.

 _One angel can hurt another._

Because Lucifer was an angel too after all, something she was still trying to get her head around. Which meant the angel in the painting was his brother.

His brother did that to him.

It would be so easy to move over to the other side of the table. Everything in her longed to go to him, to give him comfort he so obviously needed. But she didn't dare. For she knew once she held him in her arms again she'd never let him go. And she couldn't risk that, not yet.

Not until she knew for sure if what she suspected was true.

"What about the phone call?" He looked taken aback for a second, her abrupt change in topic obviously surprising him. Apparently he'd been expecting further questions more divine in nature. It wasn't that she didn't have them, in fact she had more than she could count, but none of that mattered right now. _This_ did.

"Phone call...?" Confusion marred his features briefly before realisation struck. "Ah, you mean the voicemail I left you. My 'drunken dial' you called it I believe?"

She grimaced slightly. She had a feeling a lot of what she'd previously said was going to come back to haunt her as long as Lucifer was around.

"Every word I said was true, Detective. I was done with hiding, and I _was_ on my way over to tell you the truth about me. Circumstances however..." He broke off, unable to find the words. And this time she did go to him, taking his hand in hers. He gazed at their entwined fingers for a while before he spoke, his voice tainted with sorrow.

"Waking up in the desert with wings you never asked for does tend to derail one's plans somewhat."

Her hand left his, flying to her mouth as she gasped. He flexed his fingers slightly, mournful at the loss.

His wings. His wings had been forced upon him. She couldn't... she couldn't fathom...

This was far beyond her realm of understanding. How it must have felt, to be violated in that way, an unwanted reminder of a life he'd rather forget. Her heart ached for him, all thoughts of pursuing an answer to her question temporarily forgotten.

But not for long.

"Wait. In the lab, you said your face had been taken right? If you had wings, why not show them to me instead?"

And then the Devil in front of her said in the most nonchalant way possible, "I chose that particular morning to cut them off. Bad timing on my part, I'm afraid."

 _He cut them off._

Her brain stuttered momentarily. _Why?_ _How even?_ It was hard enough just to wash your own back. Maze perhaps? She remembered him telling her she'd done it the first time. Oh god, the first time. _Those scars. Those awful, agonising scars._ And he'd done that to himself again? But...

"You still have wings."

He sighed. "Not much I can do about that apparently. I kept cutting, they kept growing. Feathery bloody menaces."

"How many times did you do that to yourself, Lucifer?" she asked quietly.

He tipped his head to the side curiously, as if puzzled by her concern. "Honestly? I lost count after a while. It wasn't exactly an experience to be remembered. Don't worry, Detective, the good doctor talked me out of doing it again."

Well _that_ was new information. "Linda knows? Since when?" A wave of jealousy washed over her at the thought.

"Shortly before we captured your father's killer, if memory serves. I have you to thank for that actually, you were the one who told me to talk to her."

 _Because you wouldn't talk to me._

"You must have done more than just talk though. You'd already been seeing her for months at that point."

Shame passed over his face for a split second. "Yes, well. Your introduction to the 'real me' was somewhat... less stressful than hers, shall we say."

Less stressful. _Flying_ was less stressful.

Then the true weight of his words hit her, and she closed her eyes as her heart grew heavy. "You showed her."

"Indeed. I actually thought I'd broken her for a while there. It took Maze of all demons to bring her round."

She'd stopped listening after the first word.

He showed her.

 _He showed her._

"Why didn't you show me?"

Puzzlement crossed his face. "Haven't we covered this already, Detective?"

She nodded. "In part, yes. But you haven't explained why you kept yourself hidden from me the rest of the time though. Because there has to be a reason."

 _Please let there be a reason._

This time it was him who reached across the table, wrapping his hands around her own. "You already know the reason, Chloe."

He paused, smiling at the sound of her name as it left his lips. "I was afraid. Afraid if you saw, if you _knew_ , that I'd never see you again."

Her hands were trembling. He held them tighter, worry filling his eyes. She steeled herself for what she was about to ask as her heart began to sink.

"So to be clear, you could have proven to me _who you were_ at any time, but you chose not to?"

He frowned in confusion, clearly expecting a different response to the one she'd given. The seconds ticked by as he considered his answer.

"...I suppose that's an accurate assessment, yes."

And with those words, she felt her heart break.


	2. Chapter 2

_Shot through the heart, and you're to blame…_

...

He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he finished speaking. She immediately pulled away from his embrace, hands still shaking as she gathered her things. "Chloe?"

She wouldn't even look at him.

Panicking, he replayed their conversation over in his mind, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. She was halfway out of the room before he even realised she'd started moving. In the blink of an eye he was in front of the door, blocking her path.

" _Move,_ Lucifer." Her eyes remained fixed on the floor.

"I can't, not until you tell me what's going on, Detective." He reached towards her, but she stepped away just as quickly.

"What's _going on_ , is that this is over. I know everything I need to know."

A chill ran through him as he realised she wasn't just talking about their conversation. "What do you mean _over_?"

"I mean _this._ " She waved her hands between the two of them. "You. Me. Partners, friends, whatever we are. Over. Done. Finished."

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. "You don't mean that. You _can't_ mean that."

She finally looked at him, her eyes flooded with tears. "But I do, Lucifer. How can I stay with you after this?"

No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after they'd finally...

"I don't understand."

She slammed her belongings back down on the table. "And that's the problem isn't it? You never do!"

He moved towards her again, but this time she held her ground, staring up at him defiantly. Gently he cupped her face, brushing away the tears there. "Help me understand then."

Leaning forward, he touched his forehead to hers, as he had once before.

 _This is real, isn't it?_

"Stay here with me."

For one wonderful moment, her gaze softened. For one wonderful moment, he hoped.

And then the moment was over. She shook her head slowly as she closed her eyes. Soft, small hands reached up and wrapped themselves around his wrists, pulling him away. He let her. She stepped around him, heading for the door.

All he could do was stand and watch as she walked out on him.

...

She almost made it. Her desk was within reach, car keys calling to her as she made her escape. But then she heard him he speak, low and bitter.

"So much for not running away."

Anger sparked sharp and bright as she turned. _"What did you say?"_

He was standing in the doorway of the interrogation room, his tall frame silhouetted against the light within. The tension in his body was obvious, fists clenched by his sides as he struggled to contain himself.

Undeterred, she marched back towards him. "You are the _last_ person who can talk to me about running away, Lucifer!" Placing both hands flat against his chest she pushed, surprising them both as he stumbled backwards.

At least he had the decency to look repentant for a second before he decided to double down. "Well aren't you? All this time, I've done nothing but tell you the truth! And what have you given me, Detective? Lies!"

Fury emanated from him. She'd seen him like this before, but never ever directed at her. Upper lip curled, he taunted her mockingly as he began to advance.

"If you think I wouldn't forgive you for your mistakes, _Lucifer._ "

 _Step_.

"If you think I don't know who you really are by now, _Lucifer._ "

 _Step_.

"You're not the Devil, _Lucifer_ , not to me _._ "

He towered over her, his face contorted with anger, dominating her vision. His eyes though... they weren't the eyes she'd seen before, those glowing orbs lit with the fires of Hell. No, these eyes contained nothing but betrayal.

"Well, Detective? _Am I the Devil to you now?"_

She waited for the fear. It should have been there. She should have been terrified. The Devil himself was incandescent with rage in front her and yet the only thing she felt... was guilt. And in turn that made _her_ angry.

They both stood in silence, breathing in unison, neither one willing to look away from the other.

It took her a full minute to realise he was trembling. She placed a hand upon his chest as she tried to find the words. She hadn't wanted to do this, but he was giving her no choice.

"No, Lucifer, you're not. This has nothing to do with you being the Devil..."

She felt the tension begin to drain out of him as she spoke.

"...and everything to do with Marcus."

...

 _Pierce?_

What the bloody hell did _he_ have to do with anything anymore?

Lost for words for what must be the first time in his long life, Lucifer watched as the Detective collapsed into the nearby chair, her legs seemingly unwilling to support her now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

After a brief pause he followed suit, taking his seat in silence as he waited for an explanation.

An explanation however, was not what she offered him.

"I have a deal for you, Lucifer. I won't leave, if you'll agree to be honest with me. No evasions, no more half-truths, no bluffing. Just the facts. We can talk. I won't promise anything more than that."

His reply was immediate.

"Done." He'd have agreed to almost anything if he meant she didn't go.

With a sigh she picked up her notepad once more, leafing through the pages as he'd seen her do so many times before during an interrogation.

"I spoke to Linda," she said.

 _Oh?_ That was interesting.

"Excellent idea, Detective! You'd be much better served talking to her than me, work out some of these "issues" you're currently dealing with."

She glared at him.

 _Right_. Not a great way to start. To be fair, the air quotes probably hadn't helped.

"For obvious reasons she wasn't able to tell me much, but she did enlighten me on a few things," she continued.

Things he wasn't going to get to hear about apparently. That was troublesome, the doctor having decided to be more friend than therapist lately. Not that he minded the Detective hearing the truth of course, especially now, but he was well aware that Linda appeared to know him better than he knew himself sometimes. Which left him wondering about what kind of insights she might have provided.

"Did you know Charlotte was a client of hers?"

Reaching into his jacket for his flask, he picked up one of the glasses on the table and poured himself a drink. "I did. It was me who suggested it, actually."

He didn't like this. Before it had felt like a game, but now... now he could understand how all those other criminals felt, trapped under the Detective's steely gaze. Because that's what he was apparently, a criminal. He just didn't know what his crime was yet.

"Were you aware she was investigating Pierce? We found files filled with documents when we searched her home, all related to his identity as the Sinnerman."

He froze. _That bastard._ Amenadiel had gotten Charlotte involved in this? Had he even told her who Pierce was, the kind of danger she was in? _Was he responsible for her death?_

"No, I was not aware," he said through gritted teeth, lowering his head and shutting his eyes before the Detective could catch the flash of fire there. He'd rip the bloody wings off his brother's back the next time he saw him, new pair or not.

Thinking he'd done a fairly good job of controlling his temper for once, he opened his eyes to find the table in front of him covered in blood and whisky, the remains of his glass shattered underneath his palm.

"Lucifer, you're bleeding."

 _Smile. Don't let her see._ Wincing only slightly, he dropped the shards still clutched in his hand and brushed away the leftover glass with the other. "Just one of the many perks of our friendship, Detective!" he replied jovially.

She frowned at his words before going to fetch the first aid kit. He spent the time she was gone composing himself, trying to calm his breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You're making it worse," said a voice from behind him.

He hadn't even noticed her come back in. Kneeling down, she gently took his hand and rested it on his leg as she began to clean his injuries. Even after all this time, he could never understand how someone as good as her could treat him with such kindness. She stole his breath away.

Wrapping a bandage around his palm, she looked up at him questioningly. "Why does that make you so angry?" As she finished, he turned his hand over to lay on top of hers, not quite holding but not letting go either. She made no indication of wanting to leave, waiting for him to answer.

"My brother... it appears he may have gotten Charlotte into a situation she was ill prepared for."

"Your brother." The Detective took a deep breath. "Who is also an angel."

He couldn't stop looking at their hands. Apparently she could feel the weight of his gaze though, because the next thing he knew she was moving away. He stared at the empty spot where her hand had been, before focusing his attention back across the table.

"It would appear so." She looked at him strangely as she sat down, and he realised she was waiting for him to elaborate. "Oh, he was mortal as they come for a while there, but it seems 'dear old Dad' has restored him to his former glory." _Because the other explanation didn't bear thinking about._

"I'm sure God's favourite son is being welcomed back into the fold as we speak." He smiled, but there was no joy in it. He turned his gaze skyward as he thought of the departure of his sibling.

 _Alone again._

It wasn't what angels were made for. But still, for once, the Silver City had provided a silver lining. "At least he managed to take Charlotte with him."

Silence. He glanced back down, and to his surprise for the first time since they'd started talking again the Detective was smiling. He couldn't help but smile back at her, his melancholy forgotten.

"She's in Heaven?"

He nodded. "She is. I even checked Hell, just to be sure."

It was impossible to miss the way her face suddenly paled. She swallowed. "You can do that?" He gave another nod as an affirmative. "I thought you never wanted to go back?"

He scoffed. "Believe me I don't. There's always a chance I'll get trapped down there. But as and when the need arises? Besides, these..." he rolled his shoulders to indicate his wings, "make a flying visit much more possible." He broke out into a grin at that, pleased with his own pun. He could have sworn that earned a smirk from the Detective too. Emboldened, he continued without thinking. "Put it this way, it's certainly easier than having to kill yourself to get there!"

This time, the silence that met him was not one of happiness. The Detective looked horrified, and he had no idea why. All he'd said was... oh. _Crap._

...

" _What...?_ " she breathed. She could barely bring herself to speak at all. He'd killed himself? That was certainly the _last_ thing she'd ever thought she'd hear him say.

"Why would you _do_ that, Lucifer?" she asked, trying to wrap her head around it. He looked sheepish for a moment. There was something funny about that, she was sure, the Devil looking sheepish, but now wasn't the time to be deciding what it was.

He gave her a shrug as he leaned back in his chair. "It was the fastest way to get to Hell at the time. No wings, you see."

"And you needed to get there quickly because...?"

His face became serious as he righted himself, fixing her with those dark eyes of his. "Tell me, Detective, how exactly _do_ you think I got the formula for an antidote from a dead professor?"

 _You didn't die after all. That makes one of us._

She thought he'd been talking his usual nonsense. _Oh God_. "You went to Hell for me?" She couldn't manage more than a whisper.

There it was, that sheepish look again. "Twice, if you count the whole Malcolm debacle."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. This man. This unfathomable man who cared for her so damn much. Who put her safety above his own. Who was there for her even when he didn't need to be. Who lov... no. She didn't know that for sure.

 _Don't you?_

None of that fit though. How he could be all of those things, and yet still allow this to happen. It didn't make any sense. But he'd died for her. _Twice_.

He was making this so much harder.

Apparently he'd carried on talking while she wasn't listening. "...More of a team effort though really. Maze, Dr. Linda... even Amenadiel pitched in."

Finally noticing her absent-mindedness, he stopped. "Detective?"

 _Focus_. "Your brother. You think he might have caused Charlotte's death in some way?"

His face became grim. "It's possible. Did any of her research indicate she knew of the lieutenant's true identity?"

"You mean as Cain." She shook her head. It was still something she was having trouble associating with the man she thought she'd loved.

"Then it's likely he didn't tell her all the facts. That _arrogant_ arsehole. He let her go in blind, and she ended up paying for it." He gripped the edge of the table, the metal buckling under his fingers. It was easy to forget how strong he was sometimes, even with the knowledge of who he was.

This was good though. Maybe she'd be able to get through to him now.

"How did your brother get involved in all of this anyway? I wasn't even aware he knew Marcus."

"Oh, they go _way_ back." He laughed at that, a joke she didn't understand. "He wasn't involved at first though. Didn't even know Pierce _was_ the Sinnerman until I told him."

And there it was.

He hadn't finished. "He probably thought it was all part of some test from Father. A test he passed apparently." There was a hint of resentment in his voice at that.

"When did you find out?"

"That he'd returned home to the Silver City? At the crime scene. There was a feather..."

She interrupted him. "No, Lucifer. When did you find out Pierce was the sinnerman. That he was Cain." She tried to hide the urgency in her words but from the look on his face he had picked up on there being something important about her question.

Eyebrows furrowed slightly, he gave her an answer. "Shortly after the death of the faux-sinnerman, why?"

She tried to keep it together, she really did. But the sob escaped her before she could stop it. In an instant he was there, pulling her close as he awkwardly tried to comfort her. She pushed him away.

"Detective, what's wrong?" Seeing his face so full of concern, her heart broke all over again.

"You just don't _get it_ , do you, Lucifer? You're pissed with your brother because he didn't give Charlotte the information she needed to know. He kept her in the dark. She made choices, put herself in danger, all because she didn't know the full story."

She was no longer crying, righteous anger coursing through her veins.

 _"How is that any different to what you've done to me?"_

...

He stepped back from her feeling like he'd taken a physical blow to the chest. How could she think that? It wasn't true! It couldn't be true! He would never... he wouldn't...

Oh Father. What had he done?

"Detective, I..."

"No, Lucifer, I don't want to hear it. You knew what he was, what he'd done. You knew for _weeks_ and didn't tell me. When we started dating, you didn't tell me. When I started to fall for him, you didn't tell me. It took you nearly losing your goddamn mind before you made any attempt whatsoever to warn me about what I was getting myself into, and even then you did it knowing I wouldn't believe you."

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think of what to say. Everything she was saying was true, and there was no way to convince her otherwise without lying. And that was something he'd promised her he would never do.

" _You're a woman of logic and reason... you require proof._ That's what you said to me. You knew exactly what it would take to get me to believe you and you still chose not to. All that time, and you could have proven to me at any point that what you were saying was true."

Finally, he managed to voice the only thing he had intended through it all.

"I wanted to give you a choice."

"A choice? A _choice_? _!_ How long have we worked together now, Lucifer? What makes you think I would ever, _ever_ choose to be with a man like that?"

He didn't know. Father help him, he didn't know.

She was shaking her head now, the tears she'd been holding back starting to stream down her face.

"You were my partner, Lucifer, you were supposed to have my back. Instead you stood by and watched as I let a murderer into my life, into my home, into my bed. I left him alone with my daughter! I can't forgive you for that. I won't."

Breathing heavily, she took a minute to compose herself. Then cautiously she approached him, placing a hand on his arm as she continued to speak.

"I'm grateful to you for saving my life, really I am. Because of you, Trixie still has a mother. But don't you see? If you'd just shown me who you really are in the first place, I wouldn't have been in danger at all."

And with that she moved away again, casting her eyes to the floor.

"We can't do this anymore. It... it just hurts too much. Once this case is over," she swallowed, her gaze flickering up to meet his, just for a second, "I'd like you to resign. I'll tell Trixie that you moved, that you had family you needed to go back to or something. She'll probably try to come by Lux, but you can tell the staff not to let her in."

There was so much he wanted to say. But so little he thought she'd listen to. "Please don't lie to the child."

"Why not? You've never liked her anyway."

Had he really not made it clear how much he cared about her? About both of them?

"How could I not? She's part of you."

A single tear fell to join all the others, and he caught it with his finger as he caressed her cheek. He felt her lean into his hand automatically.

"Chlo..." Her eyes snapped to his as she pulled away. "Detective, please."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

She hesitated, and for the briefest instant he thought she'd reconsidered. Instead, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. It felt different though, this time.

 _The last time._

"Goodbye Lucifer."


	3. Chapter 3

_No one can save me, the damage is done…_

...

No.

This couldn't be happening.

She was gone.

The loss was tangible, an all-encompassing emptiness within his chest. His heart was still beating, so it must be there, but he could no longer feel it. Not without her.

His face was wet. Her tears? No. His.

Is this what it felt like, when humans lost each other?

Somewhere along the line she'd become an integral part of his life. He couldn't picture a day without seeing her, lived for those moments when she needed his help, longed for the precious few hours they spent together outside of work. He revolved around her like the Earth around the sun.

It hit him then, for the first time. Linda had been trying to convince him for months, like it was the simplest thing in the world. _Tell her how you feel._

He knew how he felt, or at least he thought he had. Thanks to her, he'd worked his way through most of the seven deadly sins by now. He had lusted from the start, greedy for her attention, envious every time she so much as looked at another man, and above all, too proud to admit any of that to her. Now the only wrath he felt was for himself, for being so foolish.

 _Because he loved her._

He'd never been in love before. He had no idea how it was supposed to feel. But he couldn't imagine a life without her, couldn't stand the thought of being on Earth if she wasn't by his side. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was. All he did know was that this feeling was everywhere inside him, like it had been there all along and he'd only just now become aware of it.

He had to fix this. He couldn't let her go, not when it had taken so long to find her.

He spread his wings.

...

Chloe ran to the parking garage like something was chasing her. Perhaps it was. Regret gnawed at her heels as she fought the urge to turn around, to go back, to take away the pain she'd seen consume him. The pain she'd caused.

Her heart was broken, her mind conflicted, but her soul... all her soul wanted was him. She didn't feel complete without him. Perhaps she never would again.

She had to get out of here. The further she was away the easier it would get. That's what she kept telling herself. She was doing the right thing, doing what she had to. It would take time, but eventually she would move on. She would. She was sure of it.

 _Even if she missed him for the rest of her life._

Her car was almost in sight when a gust of wind nearly blew her off her feet. Righting herself, she sighed as she focused on her destination, refusing to turn around. She knew he was there without looking.

"Go away, Lucifer. I have nothing left to say to you."

There was no reply, but she could hear the sound of footsteps making their way across the asphalt. She started searching in her bag for the keys she'd thrown in there. Maybe if she could get to the car quick enough…

"I mean it, Lucifer. I don't want to talk anymore."

The footsteps grew closer.

There. She'd found them. She increased her pace... and then stopped in her tracks.

He'd appeared in front of her car out of nowhere, wings fully extended either side of him, magnificent and glorious. She stared at him in amazement. He looked... complete, in a way she'd been unable to fully appreciate the first time around. This was him at his finest, the way he was always meant to be. He was, for lack of a better word, divine.

Then the wings vanished and she felt the loss immediately. The world seemed darker now without their light to chase away the shadows. _How had he ever given that up?_

It didn't matter. Now that they were gone there was only Lucifer, and Lucifer was not someone she wanted to be around right now. Pushing past him, she tried to reach the driver side door, but he caught her arm as she passed by.

"Chloe." She froze. She hated that the sound of him saying her name had such an effect on her, even now. He used that pause to turn her body towards him, his hand taking hold of her other arm. Those deep brown eyes captured hers and she saw the desperation within. He looked so _broken_.

"Don't. Please."

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a single word out his grip suddenly tightened, and the world lurched sideways.

...

The cool night air swept through his feathers as moonlight invaded his vision. They were no longer underground, so where were they? His first guess said the roof of the precinct. He'd never been up here before, but the surrounding buildings looked familiar. He hadn't meant to bring them here. He hadn't meant to bring them anywhere. He hadn't meant...

 _Chloe_.

Carefully he pulled back his wings from where they'd wrapped themselves around her only to watch in horror as she collapsed into his arms. Gently he lowered her to the floor, cradling her head. He was a fool. Humans weren't designed to travel this way, not conscious at least, he _knew_ that and yet he'd done it anyway. All so she wouldn't leave him.

There was a slight groan. He knelt down beside her, relieved to see her coming around. "Chloe, are you..."

Her eyes flew open and she scrambled away from him. Pupils dilated, breathing erratic, everything about her screamed instinctual, primal fear. He went to move closer and she shied further backwards, throwing up an arm to ward him off.

"Stay the _hell_ away from me!"

He froze.

 _Do I scare you?_

 _No._

This was killing him. All he could do was watch as she curled herself into a ball, shaking with the stress of what he'd just put her through. The minutes ticked by and bit by bit she began to recover, her muscles relaxing, breathing returning to normal.

Unfortunately, realisation returned along with it.

"What _was_ that?" She started to try and get off the floor, still unsteady on her feet. He wanted to go to her, but the way she was glaring at him told him he was better off staying as far away as possible. "Where even _are_ we?"

He stayed silent as she looked around, knowing she'd figure it out for herself soon enough.

"Seriously, the roof?! You brought us to the roof... somehow. I don't remember it being like that before."

Finally she stopped swaying. Cautiously he took a step towards her, arms open to indicate he meant no harm. "My apologies, it was not my intention..."

She didn't let him finish. "I don't care what you intended, Lucifer. I want out of here. _Now_."

He took in the surrounding area. There was no obvious exit that he could see, not even a fire escape which he assumed was probably against some sort of human rule. There was only the doorway to the roof itself, which the Detective was already marching towards.

Moments later she slammed her hands against the frame. "Locked. Just great. So that's your grand plan is it? I try to leave so you take me somewhere I can't? Do you plan on keeping me up here forever?"

"We had a deal, Chloe."

She whirled around towards him, her words calm despite the furor running through her.

"I said we'd talk and that's exactly what we did. There's nothing more to say."

Anger suited her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her look more beautiful.

"And what if _I_ have something to say?"

Another step nearer. He could hear her breathing now, hear the sound of her heartbeat, both increasing the closer he got. She met his gaze defiantly, her blue eyes boring into his.

"What could you possibly say that would change anything?"

They were standing within touching distance now, the wind ruffling his curls as her hair flew all around her. He reached out, tucking a stray piece behind her ear as he gathered his courage.

 _"I love you."_

...

Her heart stopped.

She had waited for so long to hear those words. Inside, she'd always known, but he'd never been willing or able to admit it, so she'd convinced herself it couldn't be true. After all, he'd said it himself, they were friends, just friends. It seemed the man who never lied only excelled at lying to himself.

If only he'd told her sooner. If only he'd shown her sooner. _If only._

When she spoke, it was quiet. "Lucifer, you're the Devil. What do you know of love?"

He smiled at her. "Nothing at all. But I know that's how I feel about you. I know that now."

She shook her head and clenched her fists, trying to summon her outrage from before. "No. You can't love me. _None_ of this would have happened if you loved me."

One more step and they were standing chest to chest, her eyes locked on his as she spoke, low and deliberate.

 _"I don't believe you."_

His smile transformed as he gazed down at her, from something innocent and pure to sly and seductive. It was a look that suited him far better. His eyes were almost black, and there was something inside them that sent a shudder down her spine.

He leaned forward, his nose brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Well if today has taught me anything darling, it's that if you won't believe me, I'll just have to show you."

The next thing she knew, she was pressed against the door as he lifted her effortlessly. Reflexively she wrapped her legs around his waist, heat sparking within her at the growl he made as a result.

He kissed her, and it was all fire and desperation. This was nothing like the kisses they had shared before. This was everything they felt for each other set aflame. Months of flirting, wanting, longing, all of it led here. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her even if she wanted to.

This. She could have this. Someone who burned so bright, without ever burning out. Someone whose passion for her had never faded, not even after all this time. Someone who loved her.

But she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

...

Kissing her was like coming home. His intention had been to overwhelm her, to use his vast experience to his advantage. But he found it was him who couldn't get enough. Moving his lips to her neck, he delighted in the gasp she made. He was certain he could happily spend an eternity finding new ways to draw that sound from her.

"Lucifer..." she breathed, and he shivered at the sound of his name leaving her lips. Lightly he bit down, feeling her head tilt back in response. "Lucifer... _stop_."

He stilled. He could feel her everywhere, the heat from her body surrounding him, her eyes filled with desire that mirrored his own. He dared to press another kiss against her neck, feeling her tremble beneath him. "Put me down, Lucifer." He held her tighter. "Put me down NOW."

Reluctantly he let her go, stepping back to fully appreciate the state he'd left her in. She wanted him, he could tell. He'd seen that look on hundreds, if not thousands of women over the years.

None of them however, had ever slapped him quite so hard.

Not without him asking them to, anyway.

"You can't do this. You can't just decide you love me and think that makes everything okay. You can't just take what you want when you want it."

She paused, still breathing too rapidly to continue. "This doesn't _change_ anything, Lucifer, don't you see?"

He didn't see. He didn't understand her at all. "I thought this is what you wanted. I thought you wanted me."

"What I wanted was proof that what you were saying was real! It was only three nights ago you were _still_ telling me you couldn't show me the truth. You have _wings,_ Lucifer. Why didn't you just show me your wings?!"

"BECAUSE THE WINGS ARE NOT WHO I AM DETECTIVE!"

His eyes blazed with fire and this time he made no attempt to hide it from her. "This. This is who I am. Make no mistake, I am no angel. I haven't been an angel for most of my existence and I have no intention of _ever_ becoming one again. I am who I will always be, and whether I have wings or not, that will never change."

He walked away to the edge of the rooftop, looking down over the street below. "You keep wanting to know why, why, why. Why do you think? I'm a monster, Chloe. A torturer. He who seeks out those worthy of punishment. Who wouldn't be afraid to show that to the person they love? Who wouldn't be afraid of losing them?"

When her voice came from behind him it was quiet, unsure. "What did I do to deserve it?"

Frowning, he turned to face her. "Deserve what, Detective?" Yet again, he didn't understand. It seemed to be his default setting these days.

"Punishment. Was that the reason for all of this? So you could torture me? I fall for you, you break my heart. I fall for Pierce, and you watch as I set myself up for heartbreak all over again. You sought me out, Lucifer. You inserted yourself into my life even when I didn't want you there, and you stayed even when I told you to go. And for what, so the Devil could play cop? So I have to ask, what exactly did I do? What made me, of all people, worthy of your personal attention?"

...

He stared at her, horrified that she could even think such a thing. Before she could even blink he was by her side, capturing her hands between his tightly.

"Nothing. That has never been what this is about, Chloe, I swear to you. I would never, I could never... all I have ever wanted to do was protect you. Even when I tried to leave I couldn't stay away. I... I missed you too much."

Her head was tilted down towards their joined hands. She stayed that way even as she spoke.

"Even you can't protect me all the time, Lucifer. Having you in my life... having you in my daughter's life... it's dangerous. Can you even say for sure that Pierce would have been here if it wasn't for you?"

He couldn't. Because he knew he wouldn't. So he stayed silent.

"Being with you, as much as I might want that, it's a risk I can't afford to take. You're not always here, I can't always count on you, not like I thought I could. If something were to happen to Trixie..."

He spoke up then. "I would never allow that. I will always protect you, both of you. You have no idea of the lengths I would go to."

Now it was her turn for silence. He had to get through to her, had to make her believe, believe in him.

"I killed my own brother to protect you, Chloe. There's nothing I wouldn't do."

...

She immediately dropped her hands from his. The blood in her veins turned to ice as the magnitude of his confession hit her. Her mind struggled with what to think, what to say, but she found she'd already started talking before deciding any of that.

"Amenadiel? My god, Lucifer, I know you said he went back to Heaven but I never thought you meant..."

He cast his eyes to the floor as he replied solemnly. "No, Detective. Another brother. Younger brother. He was here to... he was going to take you away from me. I had no choice."

This wasn't happening. Not again.

She lashed out. "Do you have _any_ idea how many other murderers I've heard say that?"

He flinched at her words, and she no longer cared.

"You're no different than Marcus." He met her eyes, and she could see he was about to protest, but she didn't give him a chance. "I loved him for the man I thought he was, and he turned out to be someone else entirely. I loved you for the man I thought you were, and it turns out I didn't even know you at all."

This time, he made no move towards her. There was no attempt to comfort her, no argument to counter what she was saying. He just stood there, silent, still, defeated.

"Tell me this, Lucifer. You say if I stay that we'll be protected, Trixie and I. Already you've stood by once when we were in danger, even if I didn't know it at the time. So what else don't I know about? Has my daughter ever been put at risk because of you, or your family?"

He looked at her and she could tell by his eyes that the answer was yes. Still, he remained mute.

"How could I possibly stay with you, knowing that?"

She couldn't. She knew she couldn't and he knew it too.

He moved then and she braced herself, ready for an argument, ready for another attempt to prevent her from leaving.

But instead, he walked around her to the door. Placing his hand against the lock, she heard it click open. He pulled on the handle, revealing the stairs below. He stood there, his usual mask appearing intact if it weren't for the tears in his eyes.

It was too little, too late.

As she started to descend she paused, turning to face the man she loved for the last time.

"All of this because you were afraid to lose me. You didn't lose me Lucifer, you made it impossible for me to stay."

He closed the door.

...

 _Stay the hell away from me._

He left the rooftop the second he let go of the handle, letting his wings take him wherever they pleased.

Which apparently, was the Detective's front door.

 _Stay the hell away from me._

Frustrated, he folded the blasted things way and walked to the road in search of a cab to take him home.

Correction, to Lux.

He'd already lost his home.

Losing her was worse than falling.

 _Stay the hell away from me._

He couldn't stay away.

He knew that, he'd tried that already.

There was nowhere on this Earth he could go that wouldn't end up with him right back here, with her.

 _Stay the hell away from me._

And there was his answer. The one place he could go and never return from.

It was what she wanted.

So it was what he would do.

...

He stood on the balcony of the penthouse, looking over the city spread out before him. It was that time of the morning where the city lights still sparkled, but the sun had begun its ascent over the horizon. He would miss this view. He would miss this place.

But most of all, he would miss her.

He hadn't taken the time to say goodbye to anyone. His brother was gone, Maze would no doubt insist on coming with him and he didn't want that for her, not when she was finally putting her life here back together. He had been tempted to ring the doctor, to thank her for all she'd done for him, but he knew she would only try to convince him to stay. So he'd left her a letter. It was cowardice on his part, but he couldn't deny she was likely to succeed if she tried.

It had been scarcely a few hours since he'd left the Detective's side and he'd already nearly talked himself out of doing this at least a dozen times.

He had to though. It was the only way. Go back to where he came from, then rid himself of his Father's gift once more so he was unable to return. It went against everything he had ever wanted, but now that he had lost the thing he wanted most, none of it seemed as important anymore.

Taking one last look inside the penthouse he pictured her there, sat at the piano as she laughed, her hair golden in the warm firelight. It had been, and would always be, one of his most treasured memories.

Closing his eyes, he kept that image in his mind as he approached the edge, as he opened his wings wide, as he dived below.

And when the flames threatened to engulf him he let them.

It was what he deserved.

...

Moments later, the elevator doors to the penthouse opened and a voice rang out into the silence.

"Lucifer?"

"Lucifer I'm sorry."

"...Lucifer?"

 _Why is it so dark in here?_


End file.
